


Beyond Perfection

by sherlock221Bismymuse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester, FOREVER LOVE, Love that cannot be defined, M/M, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 06:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18845305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlock221Bismymuse/pseuds/sherlock221Bismymuse
Summary: Sam looks at Dean.





	Beyond Perfection

There are some days when everything is just simply perfect.

The colour of the sky, the warmth of the Sun, the caress of the breeze, maybe a hint of rain in the swirl of dust. Even the muted light entering through the curtains is a perfect golden halo on the floor.

The smell of freshly mowed grass, the rustle of the tree leaves.

The hot coffee feels like liquid velvet on his tongue. The bran muffins he had made a few days ago are heating in the oven and the rich earthy smell slowly filling up the kitchen is making his mouth water just a little bit.

Sam gives the morning a 10 on 10 for perfection.

.

.

And then Dean wakes up and comes over, yawning and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

When he opens his eyes Sam sees the dark shade of green, like a forest in which he has found refuge, the calligraphic arch of those eyebrows, one already going up quizzically at being looked at in this way.

Sam’s eyes linger on those lips. The particular shade of rose pink and the curve of the bow shape with one side slightly quirked in a fond half- smile. 

Even Dean’s bare toes curling up against the floor are marvels of engineering and beauty. The arches of his feet would shame the Golden Gate Bridge. Then Dean pushes up his sleeves and the bare forearms covered with the faintest golden down make Sam’s pulse race.

.

.

He visualizes Dean leaning against the car wearing in his leather jacket. Dean looking sharp in a suit. Even Dean in his regular shirt makes him take in a deep breath. Sam wonders sometimes how come everyone in the visible radius doesn’t just throw themselves at him and want a piece of him.

Dean frowning also manages to be a thing of beauty and on the rare occasions when his big brother turns to look at him and gives him a fond smile, Sam is so mesmerized that he almost forgets to breathe.

.

.

Now Dean is putting his hands on his hips and twisting around a bit, still stiff from the earlier day’s hunt and the night’s sleep. His strong back with the broad shoulders tapering down to the narrow waist, muscles rippling under that thin T- shirt….it is more majestic than the Everest soaring beyond the clouds.

Dean flexes his fingers, still re-booting his body, and Sam catches the flash of the ring on his right hand. He watches as Dean’s hand goes automatically to check for the amulet as soon as his fingers wake up. He watches as his brother holds it for a long second. A reminder of a vow.

One that Sam never directly asked for and Dean never promised in as many words but which is there, unspoken but throbbing and alive between them.

An unbreakable bond. A timeless connection.

Even now as Dean gives him a quick glance, Sam can read all the thoughts inside his head as though they were written on the wall. He can feel the intense love and a protective possessiveness radiating out from Dean almost in physical waves.

_You ok Sammy? Did you sleep well? Are you in pain? Anything hurting from yesterday? What can I do for you? I am always there for you. You can tell me anything. I will never let anything happen to you. I will never put anything, past present or future, before you._

_Sammy?_

_._

_._

Suddenly the scale for perfection has become meaningless and while the day is still a ten on ten, his Dean …Sam struggled to think of a number….what is his Dean? A hundred on hundred? A million on million?

He shakes his head at himself and laughs.

Dean is magnificent. He is sublime. He is….exquisite.

He is the embodiment of life itself celebrating its own existence.

There is simply no scale for measuring him because his Dean is perfection itself.

 

 

 


End file.
